


Whatever's Left

by Emptylester (timelordangel)



Category: GMM, Youtubers
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/Emptylester
Summary: Sin and decadence.





	Whatever's Left

It’s kind of fucked up.

Gentle, rough, fast, lingering in the low light in the final moments of the setting winter sun through the light gray drapes in their office. Rhett licks into Link’s mouth and oh it’s warm, but he doesn’t do it for the warmth of it, but the comfort, the driven, intimate drag of a tongue against tongue and lips against wet lips.

Link is hard as a rock against Rhett’s leg and they won’t take off their clothes, not yet, but he imagines thrusting into the nooks and crannies of Rhett, the tightness and warmth of 34 years of knowing someone yet never having known him like this.

Link has to pull back. He got too much in his head again. He can’t come like this, wrinkled and tense on top of his best friend, worked up and flustered beyond just the sex, beyond his comprehension. Rhett’s looking up at him like “Why you’d stop?” but Link has to catch his breath now, has to deal with the fact that Rhett’s gonna be weird about this for a few days.

He always is.

Link figures it’s not Rhett’s presence of a higher moral conscious, but instead the _lack_ of such feelings, such overwhelming desire that drowns link every time they get into this. The past four months were a sort of natural progression. They saw too much of each other and Link’s brain got confused on whose arms he should crawl into at the end of the day.

He laughs and it comes from a weird place of discomfort and immense guilt.

“Let’s go home,” Link says, but doesn’t make any move to get off Rhett.

They both stare at each other and fuck, Link wants to lean down and kiss Rhett again, wants to rip his shirt off his collar and sink his teeth into the sweaty skin there. He’d devour Rhett if he could.

Link slides off the sofa and turns away, shielding the obvious tent in his jeans as if he is ashamed, ashamed of how fiercely Rhett works him up. He barely notices Rhett pulling himself up from the sofa, looking just as put together as he did filming LTAT an hour ago. Rhett tugs his shirt back into place and claps Link on the back, not looking back as he heads out door.

Link can practically hear Rhett’s thoughts- he knows what Rhett is thinking.

“Last time, okay?”

 

-

 

Link hasn’t worked this hard to seduce anyone since the early 2000’s when he still felt butterflies every time he kissed down Christy's neck.

His wife still turns him on, but it’s been a long time since it has felt like _this_. Maybe it’s because it’s taboo, maybe because Rhett works out four times a week, or maybe because Link’s bisexuality has never truly been fed and god, god it’s _starving_.

Two weeks later Christy plans a family game night and the plans fall through when their family friend Kelly takes all the kids to the pumpkin patch. The adults decide to have a night in with just the four of them and Link feels nervous because he’s going to do bad things.

He knows the women will end up in his and Christy’s bedroom watching HGTV and drinking the liter of white Zinfandel they got at Costco two weeks ago. The men will end up in the basement sipping whiskey; the only topic off limits will be work.

They are alone and this time it feels different, guarded. Link pours glass after glass of diet coke and Crowne, until it’s regular coke and Jack, then just a glass of Jack, then it’s Jack straight from the bottle. Link feels alive with electricity buzzing through him, keeping him alert and awake even under the sedation of the alcohol.

“Hey,” Link laughs, too loudly, a foot away from Rhett on the leather sofa in the basement. Rhett looks sober, smiling behind blonde beard and a certain reservation in his eyes.

“Hey!” Rhett echoes, followed by a hearty sip from the bottle.

“The girls are having a good time upstairs, I’d assume. Been a while since the kids have had a sleepover with Jamie and Oliver,” Link says.

“Oh, gosh, I know. I feel like I would have liked to see Shep at the corn maze though,” Rhett smiles softly. “Suppose it’s only October. We could go again.”

“Yeah. We could go again,” Link drawls.

There’s a silence, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“What’s on your mind?” Rhett says and sighs, looking down at the worn leather, looking at the dents and nicks from the dogs and kids and grimaces hard, hard enough where Link catches it even as Rhett faces the ground.

“You, mostly,” Link grins, brave, inches forward.

  
“Why’s that,” Rhett asks.

“You look good. I like your gray Henley,” Link explains.

There is a beat of silence.

“We can’t. Our wives are upstairs. Our wives, Link,” Rhett takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Okay, why don’t we go someplace? Back to the studio? Get a room? Just-“

“Link, what the hell, man?” Rhett shoves his glass to the table and stands. “For the first time in my entire life I don’t feel safe with you, I feel like I can’t be alone with you.”

“Wow,” Link hesitates, recoiling as if he’d been physically pushed back, “I-“ he stops speaking involuntarily, his words leaving him in a rush of embarrassment, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes beg him to cry.

He still wants it. Even with the repercussions, even with their wives upstairs. He can’t deny this, his head is flooding with leftover love and he wants to tell Rhett about the past 35 years like it’s someone else’s life compartmentalized into happy little chunks of Here’s Why I Love You, Here’s Why We should-

“Say something!” Rhett clears his throat, “Stop looking like that. Stop looking like I just punched you in the face.”

“I’d rather you punch me,” Link stutters.

They have spent many beautiful days together. Overwhelming sunsets and sunrises in the rich North Carolina humidity, exchanged for the bright and endless California warmth. Link wishes they were somewhere else right now, somewhere peaceful and warm.

“Listen, brother, we’re alright. It’s gonna be just fine,” Rhett stands and for a second and it reminds Link so viciously of those North Carolina days, of the way Rhett protected him without a single hesitation. Everything was about Link, even when Link was the one who messed up.

“F _uck_ ,” Link whispers, “Rhett, I’m fucked up. I want you so bad, man. So bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhett says with his eyes locked shut.

“S’fine. Can I… uh,” Link pauses, “I thought you might have wanted me too.”

“Thought?! You thought?!” Rhett stands, frustration bubbling through him and popping like champagne, pouring over the carpet. “I’ve wanted you for years, Link. Years. I managed to keep it down until you crawled into my lap that first time and I lost myself. I risked everything to have you _once_ , of course I fucking want you.”

Link is taken aback, his soul momentarily patched by the affirmation that Rhett is dealing with this emotional hell too.

“That doesn’t change that you don’t want me now,” Link starts to say, a phrase designed to make Rhett feel guilty even though Link knows why Rhett doesn’t want this; in fact it infuriates Link that he himself still wants this, even with everything on the line.

“Even on a diet I want chocolate cake, man. I’m always going to want the chocolate cake. I’m always gonna want you,” Rhett’s voice is barely a whisper by the last part but it’s deafening in the stagnant basement air.


End file.
